Iris
by rumpleswagskin
Summary: Barney's lost and wondering who he really is... Maybe Robin can help?


**A/N: Well, my first HIMYM fanfic! B/R of course! I hope you all like it!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own How I Met Your Mother, the song 'Iris' or Barney and Robin (But God I wish I owned Neil Patrick Harris! **** )**

He's sitting in the bar alone. Last call approaches imminently, but for the moment this is the least of his concerns.

Barney Stinson. The name that has always struck fear and awe into the hearts of bachelors around him and caused countless women to crawl after his feet. Vacant, expressionless shadows of women that mean nothing more to him than the glass of scotch he drinks to wash their memories away. He pours every ounce of his effort into luring them into his trap, they satisfy his every carnal need and then he leaves, never to see them again. And so the cycle starts once more, and he even loses count once or twice.

But then he met _her_. He had never even _known_ a woman could be like her until they became friends. _Bros_, more like it. Her and her independence, her strength and her attitude. Her sparkling eyes and her soft brown hair. The gun-toting, scotch-swilling, laser-tag-playing, cigar-smoking ex-Canadian teen popstar who wasn't afraid of men. If anything, they should be afraid of her.

He looks down into his newly-refilled glass of scotch, surveying his reflection. He appears the same as he always has: blonde hair, hard features and baby blue eyes. Yet he barely recognizes himself… not that he really knows who "himself" is anymore.

He doesn't even look up and he knows that she's entered the bar. He can always sense it when she is around and the feeling is near impossible to explain. It makes his skin tingle and his heart flutter. She slides into the other side of the booth and he still doesn't lift his head.

"Hey Barn-door," she says softly, but with a slight joking edge. He wants to reply but he seems to not be able to find words at the moment. He merely nods slightly in response. "Look, I know you don't really want to talk right now but-"

"No, it's fine," he manages to say. He knows where she is going with her sentence and despite not wanting to have a deep in-depth discussion at the moment; he still doesn't want her to leave. There's something oddly comforting about her presence, something that provides him with more reassurance than his scotch or his bimbos do.

She sighs.

"You haven't been yourself lately, Barney. You wanna tell me what's up?"

He lets out an amused _"Ha."_

"_Myself_," he scoffs. "What does that even mean?"

Her eyes narrow slightly at his response, knowing that he must have ingested a fair amount of liquor tonight.

"It means you've barely even been talking, let alone bragging."

The alcohol slurs his words together.

"What's there to brag about, _Robin?_" he implores. "I'm 36 years old and I've done _nothing_ in my life. It's a damn waste. I haven't done anything great, got anything important…nothing."

She leans forward and lightly touches his hand that rests on the table. He jolts slightly, almost imperceptibly, wondering if she feels the sudden rush of heat and electricity that he does.

"You've got us," she says. "And…_Nora._" She prays that he doesn't notice the sudden tightening of her lips as they form the word.

"Yeah, _Nora_… all British and perfect-like. She's great."

"Exactly! She's perfect," she replies.

"Well maybe that's the problem, Robin. Maybe _I'm_ not perfect." Barney's staring off into space now, a haze of liquor and conflict in his eyes. "And it's just… I'm getting too old for _this_ kind of stuff." He gestures towards the groups of blondes sitting at the bar.

She gets out of her side of the booth and slides in next to him, their shoulders brushing lightly. She smirks lightly.

"Is this a mid-life crisis?" she grins slyly, nudging him. He punches her playfully in the shoulder.

"I'm not 60 _yet_, Scherbatsky," he says, returning the smile half-heartedly.

She turns to him, amused.

"Wait, you think you're going to live til 120? That's impossible."

"Yeah, well we'll see about that," he grins.

Barney watches a couple leave the bar, totally enamoured with each other, their hands clasped together and their expressions of adoration. He sobers again, tasting the bitter scotch on his tongue. How is it that the only woman that he can't handle is the only one keeping him from crumbling?

_And all I can taste is this moment,_

_And all I can breathe is your life,_

He looks at her. She is as beautiful as ever, her skin glowing and her cheeks flushed slightly from the chill outside. Whenever inner turmoil strikes, it always seems that she is the only one he can talk to. She is the only one who fully understands him… even Ted, who he fights to claim as his best friend constantly, can never read him like she can. Sometimes it unnerves him… and then sometimes he feels like without her he would have given up a long time ago.

"Look, I'm not stupid," he says. "I know I can't be _that_ _guy_ forever. At one point it has to end… but the problem is, I don't know where to go from here."

'_Cause sooner or later, it's over,_

_And I don't want to miss you tonight,_

She clasps his hand and runs her thumb over his knuckles gently.

"You don't have to go anywhere," she says softly. "You need to stay right here where you are. With us. And you need to stop trying to change yourself…we love you for who you are, Barney, even though sometimes you make us wonder why we even want to associate with you," she smiles wryly. He looks downcast for a moment and she squeezes his hand. "But then we remember. It's because you're kind and funny and generous and loving, beneath all the women and scotch you hide behind."

He smiles a watery smile. How is it that she always knows the right things to say? That's why he bares more of his soul to her than he does to anyone else in the universe—because they just don't seem to get him like she does.

_And I don't want the world to see me,_

'_Cause I don't think that they'd understand,_

Her heart beats wildly in her chest at the smile he gives her. They broke off their relationship ages ago, and at the time it had been the right thing to do. But now, both of them have grown so much. Barney had fallen in love, and Robin had felt the sting of having someone choose their career over her. And now, they're beginning to recognize again the qualities that made each of them fall for the other in the first place.

"I tried to settle down so fast and I ended up just…_settling_. And I don't _settle_ for things in my life, Robin. I always want… the best." He meets her eyes. And she _is_ the best. He has even told her once before, ranking her second only after his own reflection.

"And you'll get the best. One day you'll meet a woman who's just as awesome as you are."

"Scherbatsky, when are you going to get that you are the _only_ woman in this universe that's as awesome as I am?" he grins. She smiles, blushing slightly.

"Goodnight, Barney," she says, pressing a kiss lightly to his cheek. Her lips are warm and soft, and they seem to leave an electric current where they touched him. At this, she wraps her scarf around her neck and rounds the corner out of the bar and he lightly brushes his cheek with his fingers.

That's when he realizes. She is the only one in the world who knows him better than he knows himself. And he never needs to worry about not knowing who he really is. Not as long as she's around.

_When everything's made to be broken,_

_I just want you to know who I am._

**A/N: Review? **


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